


Gentle Touch

by Ava_Aasimar, TheCrowBitesDust



Category: Persona 5, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Amamiya Ren: BAMF, Arsene is a bamf, Father-Son Relationship, also i write personas like dæmons sue me, arsene has big dad energy, arsene is a sweetheart really, its just fluff really, ren is a bamf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:49:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_Aasimar/pseuds/Ava_Aasimar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrowBitesDust/pseuds/TheCrowBitesDust
Summary: Ren remembers the events of Reset.





	Gentle Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [One Big Smash-y Family](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470526) by [Audiomedic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audiomedic/pseuds/Audiomedic). 



> I don't speak French, Google is my only friend in that regards, so take the dialogue with a pinch of salt.
> 
> UPDATE- French corrections by the amazing @ Ava_Aasimar !!! Many thanks to them and their kind help :3

Ren sat in the enveloping silence of his room. Morgana had left to take a few days off the tournament to "do personal stuff" and Ren, ever obliging, agreed.

Which left him here. Sitting cross legged on his bed, cleaning his gun. In this "Smash Hotel" pocket-dimesion the realistic model became the actual weapon it was in the metaverse- and as such required the upkeep of a real weapon.

The silence was loud when you were used to some form of company. He'd once been a child of silence, always alone, the quiet weird kid with no friends who did ballet and gymnastics against his parent's wishes, never speaking, never interacting.

After his move to Tokyo and meeting Morgana and the rest of the Phantom Thieves, he'd gradually adapted to their bright sparky personalities and loud energy.

And now he was alone again.

_Not quite, mon autre moitié._

Arsène's soft purr brought a small smile to Ren's face. Of course he wasn't alone. 

A myriad of Personas lived within Ren's mind; only one truly reflected him though, only one was his 'Personnage'. 

Arsène was always present within his soul, a quiet reassuring personality that would occasionally speak up in sibilant, smooth tones. His presence manifested itself physically in the metaverse- and as Joker discovered after joining the Smash roster, he could also gain a physical form in the Smashverse.

But something other than loneliness nibbled at him. He felt like he was forgetting something, something big, that had affected him severely.

_Petit voleur, why do you worry?_ The demon's rich baritone was smooth, yet undercurrents of concern laced it. Arsène was not slow-witted nor bound by the same rules as mortals, and as such recalled the events of that alternate past in sickening detail. But he chose not to tell his wielder, knowing that it was best for his mind to repair itself… and perhaps out of a sense of sympathy for the boy, wished to spare him the details.

  


Ren shrugged mentally; carefully he placed his clean gun into its holster and began clearing up his equipment, packing it away into a little box. He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a silky black cloth, before replacing them over grey eyes.

Arsène hmmm'd, and Ren could practically see the gentleman thief's wings rustling in thought. A stray thought occurred to the boy then as well, and the Persona took it.

_The highwayman is away, non? Why not attempt to explore the hotel a little?_

"I suppose so." Ren's answer was noncommittal, but Arsène knew the boy was not one for hesitation. 

And the demon was right, for within seven minutes the boy known as Ren slipped from his room and walked down the hallway. He wore a simple outfit- his tartan pyjama trousers, a black t-shirt emblazoned with red cat's eyes, and red sneakers paired with his iconic red leather gloves. Underneath his large t-shirt his knife hung from his belt, sheathed. 

The hotel was quiet. No wonder, actually, considering it was 4 in the morning. 

And thanks to all the practice of slinking about the metaverse, Ren's footsteps were soft as cat's paws.

He padded quietly through hallways and slipped down staircases, until he had left the dormitory wings entirely and now entered the rest of the hotel. Silent as a jaguar he picked a door at random and darted through it, entering a huge auditorium.

It was exactly like sneaking through a Palace, Ren realized. Except without the constant threat of Shadows… or the presence of his teammates. Logically he knew he needn't be on edge; he was surrounded by fighters. But the faint, half-forgotten memories of Reset and the Miis nipped at his nerves, and the striking similarity to a Palace infiltration automatically set his body to fight-or-flight. Arsène simmered quite far beneath the surface of his soul, the aura of the Masters' touch forcing him lower into Ren's consciousness then he preferred. He suddenly regretted leaving his gun in his room, and drew his dagger with a swift movement. 

Anxiety chewed at him like a dog, and he shivered inadvertently. The darkness, usually welcoming in its protective grip, suddenly felt oppressive. Shadows snarled in the edges of his eyes, fleeing when he looked around. The hall was so wide he could not see the roof in the shade, and the beams of the walls resembled thick tree trunks looming out towards him.

Like the Guardian's forest.

Out of nowhere memories of the Reset overwhelmed him, the ice cold feeling of such pain and failure and death clawing up his throat and clutching his chest, fear and anxiety skyrocketing as he stumbled to the floor, glasses and knife falling to the carpet, clutching his chest as the memories rose around him in a flood, he couldn't breath, he was drowning in pain and terror and-

Blue fire devoured the chill in his bones and black wings pushed back the tide of pain as Arsène materialized. He crouched beside Ren, ensconcing the boy in his warm wings, a taloned hand resting gently between the boy's shoulders. A shaking, pale hand reached forward with the desperation of a drowning man, and clutched the blue-black feathers in a tight, terrified grip. The demon crouched there, a quiet guardian, grounding his bonded throughout the entire experience of regaining lost memories. 

The sun had begun to tint the horizon when Ren finally moved.

The boy's shuddering breath slowly began to steady itself, the racing heart rate gradually declining and the shaking in the limbs stilling as he stroked Arsène's feathers. Minutes ticked by, and the boy finally managed to pull himself up. Deft claws caught him before he fell again, the gentleman thief supporting Ren until he was confident the boy could stand alone. In any other situation it would have been a ridiculous scene- a monstrous 7ft tall demon designed to deal death helping up a 5ft 9" teenage boy in his pyjamas. But now, it was a scene of empathy. 

"I…" Ren began, his voice hoarse and cracking.

 _"Parle pas, fait seulement respirer, mon petit voleur."_ Arsène murmured. The demon's fiery black mask-face bore a far softer expression then its usual vicious smirk, glowing orange fangs resembling an expression almost like concern. Ren shivered and leaned against his Persona, still weak from the sudden shock of remembering everything.

_"Ce n'était pas ta faute."_

Arsène spoke softly, and Ren relaxed a fraction. 

"Je les ai encore lassié tombé…" The boy's voice trembled slightly. Arsène ran a clawed hand across his hair, comfortingly smoothing out the unruly black strands.

" _Non. Tu as fait de ton mieux- tu as bien combattu. Respire, petit voleur."_

Ren took a shaky breath.

"Je suppose…" 

Arsène gently let go of Ren's arms, and when the boy didn't topple over he took the opportunity to gesture back towards the doors of the auditorium, now illuminated by a stripe of golden light from the rising sun.

_"We ought to return to our quarters."_

Ren gave no objection, and after collecting the fallen knife together the two of them retraced their steps through the hotel, slipping back into their room. Only then did Arsène take pause and look at his bonded.

_"Will you be alright?"_

A simple question, but the boy picked up on the underlying ask. _Will you be alright alone?_

Ren blinked owlishly, his unfiltered stormy gaze disconcertingly intense to anything but Arsène. 

"...I… I think so."

The Gentleman Thief regarded the Phantom Thief with unreadable eyes of fire.

_"I will always be at your side, Ren. You know that, oui?"_

For the second time that day Ren smiled; a soft, small, precious thing.

"Oui. I know that, Arsène."

And with a burst of blue fire Ren was left alone in his room, holding a white domino mask. 

**Author's Note:**

> arsene has massive dad energy i love him


End file.
